


Do They Know It's Christmas?

by WitchesBrew



Series: Christmas Thramsay [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, M/M, Ramsay is his own warning, Thramsay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:51:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5394878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchesBrew/pseuds/WitchesBrew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is Christmas, a joyful season for Theon who has been accustomed to jolly traditions from his time at the Starks. Ramsay, on the other hand, hates everything Chrismassy and has forbidden Theon to celebrate.<br/>However, this holiday will be different, as Roose as usual wants to celebrate the season with his son, but announces that this year his Christmas loving Walda will join them.<br/>Theon doesn't get much space to enjoy the Christmas joy though.</p><p>This is my first larger work, so I apologize in advance for any weird choice of words or wrong grammar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We'll Be Home For Christmas

Since Theon moved in with Ramsay Christmas had become somewhat of a distant phenomenon to him. He was only able to tell that the tradition still existed from the new assortment of goods at work, the decorations around town and from the commercials that he might be lucky to catch, when he was allowed to watch TV, though these moments happened more and more rarely.

Ramsay had forbidden him to decorate the house, punished him for humming Christmas carols and Christmas sweets were banned. Last Christmas a colleague at the supermarket where Theon worked part time had given him a box of chocolates shaped like snowmen from their new Christmas assortment. Theon had been delighted, but when he brought it home Ramsay had thrown it directly into the trashcan and Theon spend the rest of the day in a closet.

Jon had made it a habit to stop by the supermarket once in a while when Theon was at work and bring small Christmas items with him, such as a snow globe, a Santa mug, and a Rudolph figurine with light in its nose. Theon was given a small shelf in the back premises of the supermarket, which by now groaned with Christmas figurines as well as other small gifts Jon brought him. Since they had finished high school one and a half years ago and Theon moved in with Ramsay, after being evicted from the Starks’s, it wasn’t much he saw of Jon. The gift exchanges at the supermarket was the closest they came to their former get-togethers, and Theon worried about how much longer Jon would continue to put up with it.

Fortunately, this year nothing had changed. The other day Jon came by again, this time with a big package for him - his Christmas present. Jon had insisted on continuing to give Theon a Christmas present, although he moved in with Ramsay. Last year, Ramsay took it from him before he had the chance to unwrap it.

His eyes teared up as Jon appeared in the store with his gift this time. "Please, Jon, I-I'm not allowed, I can’t ... he will...".  
"I know" Jon interrupted, "but I'm not going to stop buying you a present just because you live with him. It's a sweater from my favorite brand. I would like to see you wear it, but I guess it's too large anyway. Take it home and let him throw it out if that's what he wants". Jon put the package down and gave him a long, warm hug. "Merry Christmas, Theon." Theon had been crying as Jon left the store, a sight that wasn’t unusual to his colleagues anymore.

True enough, as Ramsay picked him up from work that day, he angrily tossed the present into the back seat, followed by a hard thrust of Theon's forehead against the car dash. When they came home, Ramsay threw the present into the fireplace, forcing Theon to watch it go up in smoke. Theon had cried again, but at least this year he knew what Jon had bought for him.

However, this year, Christmas at Ramsay’s would end up being even more dreadful than usual. Roose had as always planned to stay at Ramsay’s for the holidays, but this year he had arrived earlier than usual, and had even announced that Walda would join them at Christmas Eve. As if this wasn’t enough to make Ramsay nearly burn down the house in utter fury, Roose told that Walda was accustomed to a traditional Christmas with everything customary, and demanded that the house this year should be filled with decorations, a tree, gifts, Christmas music and of course lots of sweets.

At the time Roose called and announced his plans Theon was in the kitchen preparing dinner, mac and cheese, as Ramsay had ordered. Ramsay had one of those days where he supervised everything Theon did, and had therefore placed himself cross-legged on the kitchen counter with a glass of whiskey, to monitor Theon’s cooking. As Theon was rather skilled at cooking, how he would ever manage to ruin a portion of mac and cheese was beyond him, but Ramsay's piercing look was as always enough to make Theon struggle not to break down crying. When Ramsay shortly after answering his phone began to curse and wander aggressively around the kitchen, Theon bent further over the pot on the stove and tried to concentrate on thinking about anything else than listening to the conversation. He might by mistake have smiled at the thought of Jon's last Christmas figurine or he might not. He did not know, but suddenly, with a painful grip around his throat, Ramsay had pushed him up against the refrigerator. The madness shone from his eyes and Theon struggled to keeping focus, knowing whatever followed would only get worse if he broke eye contact.

"I know you were listening to the conversation, and I know how happy you are about the opportunity to experience Christmas this year. Unfortunately, I have no chance to ruin my father's plans of turning our home into a miserable Christmas Hell, but I swear, if I see as much as _one_ smile from you for the rest of this month, I’m gonna cut off your fucking lips!!"

Struggling to breathe, Theon apologized the best he knew, but Ramsay wasn’t interested in pathetic pleading this time. He threw Theon hard to the ground, grabbed the pot on the stove and threw it against the floor, only inches from Theon's face. Scalding macaroni spread all over the floor and hit Theon as well.

Ramsay, calm again as if by magic, sat back on the counter and lit a smoke. "Too salty. You've got 30 minutes to clean up and do it over."


	2. Roose Bolton Is Coming To Town

Roose had arrived in the morning, the trunk of his car filled with bags and colorful boxes of Christmas ornaments. Ramsay had been ordered to help carry it all inside, but didn’t bother to be careful handling the items. His carelessness had caused him to _accidentally_ drop the first box of Christmas baubles he picked up, and bright coloured glass scattered all over the pavement. His father responded with a strong backhand that made Ramsay reel, and informed him that a large part of the objects were heirlooms, and therefore of great importance to Walda. If anything were to be broken, he would be answering for it. Luckily Ramsay had ordered Theon to stay inside. When he heard Ramsay began shouting at his father, he rushed into the living room and pretended to be arranging the logs by the fireplace.

When each bag and box were finally safe inside the house, Ramsay appeared in the doorway to the living room and looked at Theon with a blistering glance. "Reek, kitchen, now!" Theon followed obediently, but came to a halt when he entered the kitchen. Wherever Theon looked glittering, colorful decorations of any sort were twinkling back at him. It was an overwhelming sight to see this amount of colour taking up every empty spot in the usually dim kitchen. Theon was aware that he was staring, but at least he managed to stop himself from smiling, mostly due to the fact that Ramsay was standing right next to him, observing his reaction. Theon quickly moved his eyes to the floor and Ramsay broke the silence with a gruff snort before approaching the objects, which were spread all over the kitchen. Theon followed, anxious to get too close.

"So, Theon, what do you think?" Theon spun around as Roose appeared in the doorway. Even before Ramsay cleared his throat, Theon knew he had made a major mistake by reacting to that name. Ramsay had a long time ago decided to name him ‘Reek’, and Theon hadn’t heard his real name from Ramsay’s lips ever since. By now, he had gotten so much use to the name, that he sometimes wouldn't react when his colleagues or Jon called him Theon. However, Ramsay hadn't yet insisted on other people calling him by the new name, and Theon was pretty sure it was all part of the game. As long as he still carried two names, it was so much easier for Ramsay to make him screw up. Especially when his father was around. As always, he didn't accept Ramsay’s figment and still insisted on calling Theon by his right name. That put Theon in a tough situation yet again, when he was put between the two of them. Every time he had to consider whose punishment would be worse. In the course of time he had figured out that either way, his punishment would eventually come from Ramsay’s hand. If he didn’t respond to Ramsay, the punishment would fall as soon as his father left the room. Yet, if he didn’t respond to Roose, Ramsay would be the one to receive the punishment, which would eventually fall back on Theon, only several times worse. 

As an attempt to prevent the situation from getting worse Theon chose not to answer, but simply look at his own feet instead. Roose directed a judging look towards Ramsay, who had sat down at the dining table and was in the process of lighting today's third smoke. Ramsay paid no attention to him as he pulsed on the smoke to light it and then threw the lighter at Theon’s head.

"I promised Walda that the house would be decorated when she arrives on Christmas Eve. I thought you should have the pleasure of that task. You are, after all, the only one in this house able to think a bit creative and structured," Roose said, while taking off his coat. Theon dared not say anything, his eyes still fixated on the floor. Most of all he just wanted to crawl into hiding. Maybe he could hide under the Christmas ornaments if he gathered them in a pile. Surely, there were enough items for it.

Roose’s gaze rested on him for a long moment before he sighed resignedly. "Take the time you need, no need to rush. But, as I told Ramsay, the objects are of great importance to Walda, so make sure you don’t break anything. I have a couple of meetings in town today, so I’ll see you both at dinner”. Roose grabbed his briefcase and walked towards Ramsay's study, which, according to an unwritten rule, belonged to Roose during his stays.

Theon was in crisis of what to do next. Where was he allowed to look? Roose had given him a task, but Ramsay would be furious if he went straight to unpacking the Christmas decorations without given him permission. His fingers were itching to be allowed to explore the beautiful items, but at the same time a knot of anxiety began to grow in his stomach and for a moment he was nervous about whether he would faint.

After keeping Theon hanging for a while, Ramsay finally broke the silence and Theon's focus was moved from the sickening anxiety. "Well? What are you waiting for? Didn’t you hear what my father said? Start sorting out this junk, you worthless cunt." As Ramsay rose from the chair and started moving about the kitchen, it was with the grace of a dancer, but at the same time the posture of a warrior. Theon had by now learned Ramsay’s body language so well, it was obvious to him that currently his entire body was tense, every muscle stretched to the breaking point. And as Ramsay passed the many glittering objects on the kitchen table Theon wasn’t in doubt, that he was fighting an inner battle not to hurl each and every glittering ornament at him. His restless wandering reminded Theon of a frustrated lion in a cage. He continued to change the position of the smoke from the corner of the mouth, to his right hand, then the left. Every time Ramsay passed by him, Theon pulled his arms slightly closer to his body, from an automatic expectation that the smoke would eventually touch his skin. With Ramsay circulating around like this, it was actually not that hard for Theon to avoid showing any sign of excitement, as he with caution began unpacking the Christmas ornaments, arranging them in some kind of decoration system on the dining table.

After a while of intimidating Theon, Ramsay apparently got bored. Without a word, he grabbed his jacket and car keys and left the house. Theon enjoyed the time he had to himself with all the Christmas decorations, yet he still made sure not to show any signs of joy over the task he had been assigned. He knew that Ramsay was watching him when he least expected it, and this might as well be a test as any other situation.

Two hours later Ramsay reappeared in the kitchen with a sleazy pizza box. Theon had been sorting out so much of the Christmas decorations that an area on the dining table had been cleared, and it was obviously here Ramsay chose to settle down with his lunch. Theon tried not to notice the breathtaking aroma of the freshly baked pizza, as Ramsay opened the pizza box, so that the lid landed on top of the ornaments on the table. With the familiar noisy chewing he eagerly began devouring the pizza. He didn’t have to finish more than two slices before his fingers were smeared with bacon grease and tomato sauce. That was when he suddenly started to show interest in the Christmas decorations on the table, which was a mixture of sparkling Christmas baubles, shiny snow globes and bird figurines decorated with real peacock feathers. With his greasy fingers he started picking up nearly every item, studying them as if such ornaments had been unknown to him until now. Theon could do nothing but watch as more and more of the finest objects were smeared with grease, cheese and tomato sauce. At least he didn’t break any of the items, but Theon knew that the decorating process would take twice the time if this was going to be the effort from Ramsay's side.

Which it was.

 

 

It took Theon two full days to arrange the Christmas decorations and tastefully place everything around the house. Mostly because Ramsay continued following him around, moving the ornaments or hiding them from him. Some of the decorations he even had to retrieve from the attic.

Theon had accomplished not to show any sign of joy for the days he was arranging the Christmas decorations. Yet he was fully aware that the current peace wouldn’t last. And true enough, the revenge came the following evening, as Theon was tidying up after dinner. Ramsay appeared in the kitchen and placed himself close to Theon, leaning against the kitchen counter next to the sink. For a long while he didn’t say a word, he simply stood there, observing Theon doing the dishes. Then like a bolt from the blue he announced that he had called the supermarket and told them that Theon had agreed to take both the day and the night shift on Christmas Eve. Theon almost dropped the plate he was holding when he heard it and stared at Ramsay in terror. He hoped to be met with a smile that would tell him he was only joking. But he wasn’t. Ramsay simply responded Theon’s terrified look with a cool gaze, pursed his lips and let out a smoke ring. "What's the matter? It's a great opportunity to earn some extra money, and anyway, Walda is gonna cook Christmas dinner this year, so there's really no reason for you being here. "

Theons eyes began to water again, but this time he didn’t bother trying to hide it. Instantly he threw himself on his knees in front of Ramsay and grabbed his legs. Tears were running down his face but he didn't care. He could not cope with the thought of having to work while they all sat at home, celebrating without him. "Please, don’t do this!! I’ll behave, I promise! I wan’t to stay home with you!! Please, I'll do anything!! I need to... !!"

"Need to? NEED to?! You don’t need ANYTHING unless I tell you to, you ungrateful piece of shit!! Get off me!!" Ramsay angrily wrenched his leg loose from Theon’s grip and kicked him over.

Sobbing, Theon got back on his knees and tried to approach Ramsay again. "I-im sorry, please, M-master, I just....!". Ramsay had lately insisted on Theon calling him Master, but he had not quite gotten use to it yet. Mostly he remembered, but sometimes he still forgot. It did not make his situation any easier that Roose forbade him to. Luckily Roose had retreated to his study after dinner, so Theon didn’t have to care about his opinion at the moment.

"SHUT UP!" Ramsay gave another hard kick to Theon’s stomach before he squatted and bent over him, holding his lit smoke less than an inch from Theon's left eyeball. "You will go tell my father right away that you wish to take the shift on Christmas Eve. And you better make it sound convincing. Am I making myself clear?" Theon didn’t dare to nod, due to the distance between his eye and the smoke. Instead he sobbed, “Y-yes Master…”.

“Good boy”. Ramsay smirked and took a last drag on his smoke before putting it out on Theons neck.

 

 

As expected, Roose wasn’t happy to hear about Theon's new work plans. “Did Ramsay put you up to this?" Roose demanded to know and gave Theon a judging look over the edge of his reading glasses, pinning him to the spot.

"No, M-mast .... I mean ... H-he did not ... no ... I wish to earn that extra money ....H-he allowed me to…. " Theon nervously swayed from side to side. Before Roose could answer, Ramsay appeared in the doorway. He grabbed Theons shoulder, squeezing it hard. "Stop lying to my father, Reek.” Ramsay’s eyes sparkled from delight as he clearly enjoyed the feelling of Theon struggling to avoid showing any sign of agony. “Yes father, I did urge him to take the shift Christmas Eve. But the fact is, he has already agreed to the shift, so unless you want him to lose his job, the deal stands”. Rose eyed the both of them for a long while, before sighing and returning to his papers. "Very well, maybe it is for the best after all, but he will not be working on Christmas Day."

Theon felt his eyes tearing up again. What had he expected? That Roose would somehow save him, let him stay at home even though the shift was already agreed on? As Ramsay said, he would risk losing his job if he cancelled. And without that job, he might lose the contact to Jon as well.

"We'll save you some of the Christmas dinner, Theon. And Ramsay, you better make sure he gets it when he returns from work that night." Roose was already focused on his papers again, but the warning in his voice was clear. Ramsay merely snorted as response as he was already halfway out the door, pushing Theon ahead of him with a painful hold at his shoulder.


	3. Fucking Around The Christmas Tree

A huge Christmas tree arrived in the afternoon on the day before Christmas Eve. It was placed in a corner of the living room, and Theon and Ramsay was there when Roose came down the stairs. "No Christmas without a tree, right? I hope you'll have fun decorating it today, Theon. After all, you did such a good job decorating the rest of the house. Walda is going to be very pleased. I'll see to it that you get an extra gift this year. "

Ramsay, sprawling on the couch with his legs crossed resting on the coffee table, surfed the channels on the TV. He didn’t budge an inch, but Theon felt his eyes on him as soon as Roose had finished the sentence. Theon nodded anxiously and his ‘thank you’ was merely a whisper. "I’ll be home late, so no need to count me in for dinner." Roose turned around and left the house.

"Whiskey." Ramsay ordered, as soon as he heard the car pull out of the driveway. Theon hurried to one of the cabinets in the living room to pick up his favorite whiskey along with a glass. Ramsay eyed him all the while he poured the liquor, waiting for an opportunity to tell him off. However, Theon had by now learned exactly the right amount of liquor suiting Ramsay, and this time his measuring was equally perfect. When Theon had put the bottle down on the table, Ramsay snorted and waved his arm towards the tree and the boxes of ornaments Theon had organized next to it. "Go on, stupid."

While Theon strategically began to decorate the Christmas tree from the top down with sparkling ornaments, glittering ribbon and electric lights, Ramsay spent his time slating the tree, the decorations around the house and of course Theon himself, only interrupted by the moments when he put the glass to his lips. Every third item Theon placed on the tree, Ramsay ordered removed to another completely random branch, spoiling Theon’s decoration scheme. As the ornaments this way randomly skipped location, Theon had to come up with a new plan along the way, in order to make the tree harmonious. Of course, Ramsay saw through this, and later ordered the decorations back to their original position. However, as more whiskey vanished from the bottle Ramsay also went more quiet. After a while, Theon was able to decorate the three without interruptions, and only had to listen to a few degrading remarks now and then.

As he was in the process of spreading the sparkling Christmas baubles, he was reminded of his time at the Starks's. Decorating the tree at their place had been an utter chaos. Sansa had proclaimed herself head of the decorating process, with very specific demands to where each piece of Christmas decoration would go. Nevertheless, Arya kept trying to discuss new solutions. Bran and Rickon had spent their time chasing each other around the tree, teasing the girls by stealing certain ornaments, with the only intention of making the girls chase them around the house. With huge enthusiasm Jon and Theon would watch the traditional scenes played out before them, and bet Christmas sweets on the outcome of the situation. Jon would always make sure that Theon won. Eventually Robb had to intervene, ordering the boys to hand over the stolen or hidden ornaments. Due to Theon’s clumsiness, he was compelled to enjoy the sparkling Christmas ornaments from a distance, but had usually been allowed to place one or two pieces on the tree.

He felt his eyes tear up again from thinking of Jon and the Christmases they had spent together. He was so lost in happy memories that he didn’t notice Ramsay appearing behind him. "Why are you crying Reek? I thought you would be so pleased? Shouldn’t you be pleased, you think?" Ramsay's voice seemed slow and snuffling, and the sickening stench of booze made Theon’s stomach turn. He wanted to turn around, but Ramsay had him fixated by a firm hold on his hips, forcing him to face the Christmas tree. Theon couldn’t help but shudder when he felt Ramsay's stretched chest muscles against his back and his warm breath on his neck. "Why are you stopping? You better make sure the decoration is complete when my father returns, so you can receive even more praise to heighten from."

Theon clutched the Christmas bauble firmly in his hand to avoid dropping it. “P-please ... I don’t ...”

"Shut up and get on with it.”

Reaching out a trembling arm, Theon carefully placed the bauble on the tree.

“Very good... You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?”. Theon sobbed when he felt Ramsay’s teeth sink into his shoulder.

“I told you to keep going.”

With caution, Theon put his hand in the basket with Christmas baubles placed on a chair beside him, and nearly knocked it over as Ramsay with a sudden yank pulled his pants down. Trembling even more he fished up a bauble from the basket while Ramsay undid his own pants, and had to grab the chair for support as Ramsay with a jerk tugged Theon to him and forced himself inside him. Theon whined and clutched the back of the chair with his free hand as he struggled to keep hold of the bauble he held in the other.

"You have enjoyed Christmas too much this year, Reek. Don’t think I’m not aware of what is going on inside that stupid head of yours. The only reason my father allows you all this joy, is because he is so ignorant and doesn’t know how much of a spoiled, ungrateful slut you really are. Only I know that, and I'll make sure you will be treated as such as soon as he leaves". Ramsay grabbed Theon by his soft curls and yanked his head back. Theon stretched his arm out and tried desperately to reach a branch, any branch, where he could place the bauble. However, Ramsay made sure to keep him at the right distance, so that he could not reach the tree. Picking up his pace, Ramsay’s forceful thrusts caused Theon to drop the bauble that crashed to the floor.

"Oh no… father is going to be very angry with you now, Reek. Didn’t you hear him say not to break anything? Let’s agree that I get to break one of your fingers for every bauble you shatter, maybe that'll teach you to listen." Before Theon was able to beg for mercy Ramsay let go of his hair, causing him to fall forward into the tree. Theon stretched his arms out and got hold of the trunk. While Ramsay with strong, painful thrusts slammed in and out of him, Theon’s face was thrown back and forth through the branches and he had to close his eyes to protect them. As Ramsay moved closer to the tree and changed his pace again, Theon was pushed so far in between the branches that his face slammed against the trunk. This had clearly turned into a game about how many baubles Ramsay could break, more than a simple wish of fulfilling a sexual desire.Theon heard two more baubles shatter against the floor before Ramsay finished with a roar and pulled himself out. He moaned as he zipped his pants. "Three fingers, Reek. Because it’s Christmas, I’ll be so kind as to let you finish decorating the tree before I break them".

Crying, Theon stayed leaned against the tree for a while, before he timidly climbed out and pulled his pants back up. Only then did he turn around, terrified of meeting Ramsay's eyes. However, Ramsay had thrown himself on the couch, and had already fallen into a deep sleep, his face turned towards the back of the couch.

An overwhelming mixed feeling of relief and humiliation went through Theon, and he had to sit down, hiding his head in his arms. The release of energies caused by the crying had relieved his sore muscles, but the stream of thoughts was like torture and he felt his brain would soon explode. He didn’t know how long he sat like this, rocking back and forth. After a while everything went quiet. The stream of tears stopped, the confusing torturing thoughts changed to a peaceful void and he became aware of the overwhelming silence in the house. Not a single sound was heard.

When he was again able to stand, he slowly and carefully started picking up the colorful glass from the broken Christmas baubles and carried it to the trashcan. It took him a few more hours to sort out the tree, finish the decoration and clean up in the living room. Ramsay had managed to keep the liquor in either the bottle or the glass, so for once Theon didn’t have to wash off furniture.

When he had finally finished, he sat down on the floor and leaned against the couch, as close to Ramsay's arm as possible without touching him.

 

 

He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes again it was dark outside and Roose stood at the end of the couch, still in his coat, holding his briefcase. Theon jumped to his feet. He quickly glimpsed at the clock on the wall. It was past 10. How could he had slept this long? Immediately, Theon shrunk and started apologizing. "S-sorry, I-i ... we ... he ..."

Not listening, Roose turned his attention to his son, who still lay drunk on the couch in the same contorted position that he had placed himself in hours ago. "Has he been drinking?"

Theon wrung his hands, not knowing what to say. Finally he nodded.

"Wake him up."

Unable to stop himself, Theon whined and looked imploringly at Roose. He remembered a phrase Jon always used in jest when Robb had fallen asleep in his study; _Let sleeping dragons lie._ This was the first time that sentence made perfect sense, but he doubted Roose would follow the advice of some children's book.

"Now."

Theon leaned terrified over the sleeping dragon, all the time trying to keep as much distance as possible, and gently pushed his shoulder. When there was no response, he tried again.The third time he got a reaction and Theon had to leap back to avoid Ramsay’s fist hurling through the air as he flung his body around on the couch. His glance was distant and flickering, but it still managed to make Theon flinch. "How dare you wake me up, you fuck!!". Only then did he notice Roose, whose look had turned even more deadly than his son's. "Father..." His voice was still affected by the large amounts of booze. Using the back of the couch as support, he sat up and looked at Roose, without really focusing on him.

"I’ll see you in my study in 10 minutes." He turned around and disappeared up the stairs before Ramsay could answer.

Theon had placed himself at a safe distance from the couch and silently watched Ramsay, who just looked at the floor in front of him, not yet fully awaken. Suddenly he looked at Theon and did a slow, waving motion with his hand. "Come here."

Theon hesitated.

"COME HERE I SAID!!"

In just one leap Theon was on his knees on the floor in front of Ramsay. He wasn’t prepared for the shower of blows that came pouring down on him. He hid his head in his arms and winced on the floor, while Ramsay's rage struck him everywhere. Ramsay got up and finished his work with a hard kick to Theon’s ribs, before disappearing into the bathroom.

Sobbing, Theon stayed on the floor, unable to move. When he heard a flush he peeked out from his arms, watching Ramsay return from the bathroom, only to continue up the stairs towards Roose's study. He was staggering and had to use the banister as support.

Theon was lying on the floor in front of the couch while Ramsay was gone. He could hear Ramsay yell at his father, but there were no yelling back. It had never been necessary for Roose to raise his voice. The arguing was followed by beatings, which Theon had overheard many times before. Each lash was followed by a terrible silence. Theon had never heard Ramsay complain when his father punished him. How he managed not to, he didn’t know. That's why Theon felt a shiver down his spine and immediately jumped to his feet when he suddenly heard a loud terrified scream coming from the study. He forgot all about his bruises and ran into the hallway and up the stairs. He stopped at the end of the stairs and fell down on the top step, clutching the banister.

The deafening silence that followed was broken as the door to the study shortly after went up and Ramsay staggered out onto the landing. His eyes were watery and with his left hand he was clutching his right arm tightly to his chest. As he came towards him, Theon noticed that his right hand was sticking out in a grotesque angle. Had Roose broken his wrist?

Theon’s eyes teared up and he almost tripped over his own feet to help Ramsay. However, before he reached him, Ramsay turned into his room and slammed the door in Theon’s face. Theon looked at the door in shock and distress. He spun around when he heard someone behind him and looked terrified at Roose, who stood as a dark shadow in the door to the study.

"You can sleep on the couch tonight, Theon. Ramsay needs some quiet time and so do you. You have worked hard these past days, and you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

They held eye contact for a long time without a word. Roose's face was without expression, his voice monotonous, but an empathy and understanding seemed to shine towards Theon from behind those gray eyes. Did Roose know what had happened today? Did he know of Ramsay’s threats? Had he broken Ramsay's wrist –and thereby paralyzing his dominant hand – merely to prevent Ramsay from carrying them out?

Trembling, Theon simply nodded before silently moving back towards the stairs. As he turned away from Ramsay’s door he heard a groan of agony.


	4. All I Want For Christmas Is Break You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the late update for this. I meant to finish it all by December 25, but I wasn't able to. Hopefully you guys still want to read this as well as the upcoming last chapter of this story. :)

Roose let Ramsay sleep with the broken wrist that night, postponing the call for Qyburn till the morning. Luckily Theon had to leave for work early, and Ramsay had decided, or been ordered, to stay in his room until he left. Theon had been a nervous wreck all morning. He had been allowed a full breakfast, with toast, eggs and bacon, but hadn't been able to eat more than half a piece of toast and a single slice of bacon. It didn’t help when Roose offered him a ride to work. In the car, Roose tried to get a conversation going, but when Theon didn't answer with any more than a sound or a single word, he decided to turn on the radio instead. As joyful Christmas music thundered from the speakers, Theon instantly reached for the power button to turn it off. Roose pushed away his hand though. "It's okay Theon, Ramsay doesn't have to know. Please, at least try to enjoy this day a bit." Theon sat back, desperately trying to hold back his tears. He looked down at his hands in silence for the rest of the ride.

As they arrived in the parking lot, Theon stammered a 'thanks for the ride' before crawling out of the car. Roose grabbed him by the arm, waving some money at him. "For lunch and a cab home tonight. Have a good day, Theon." Without looking at him, Theon shakingly grabbed the money before hurrying inside the store.

With almost no customers, Theon had the opportunity to sneak around by himself, arranging items on the shelves most of the day. However, his mind didn’t seem able to find the same peace. The thought of an injured Ramsay along with his threats drove on repeatedly in his head. He thought of the best ways to comfort and calm him down when he got home. Apologize, plead and beg, kissing his feet. Fool around or hurt himself, something to make Ramsay burst into his degrading, humiliating laughter. If lucky, Ramsay would be so high on painkillers, Theon might in fact be able to explain himself and be forgiven. Those were the comforting, naive thoughts. They turned quickly to torturous ones though, causing Theon to repeatedly hide in a corner of the stockroom, crying until he felt dizzy. Ramsay would definitely know he had been listening to Christmas music in the car, and for that he would cut off Theon’s ears. Or he might decide to cut of his lips as he had originally threatened to do. Or maybe he would simply break his fingers as he had said he would. Theon looked down at his trembling hands. Ramsay had already cut of the pinky on his right hand. He had been merciful to not yet remove any more though. But he couldn’t lose use of any more fingers, how was he supposed to work then? Theon wrapped his hand in his shirt. He couldn’t stand the sight of the gap where his finger used to be. Every time a bit of the pain seemed to reoccur and he would feel sick. He was a freak, and that tiny remaining bit reminded him as well as anybody else of it.

Another round of weeping late in the evening, caused by the thought of Ramsay, Roose and Walda celebrating at home without him, was interrupted when his colleague called from the store. To Theon’s great surprise, Jon and Arya were waiting for him. Jon looking as good as ever and Arya twinkling like one of the star ornaments Theon had put on the tree at home. Theon was beside himself from a mixture of joy and confusion over what to do. On the verge of tears, he was rescued when his colleague with an understanding smile nodded towards the door to the stockroom. There were still no customers in the store, so he could easily handle things on his own.

Jon and Arya followed Theon into the back premises and they all settled down around the lunch table. Theon didn’t know what to say, but was yet again rescued from the awkward situation as Arya immediately started cackling about the Christmas preparations at home. How Sansa this year had insisted on cooking dinner, which had turned out a catastrophe, as the turkey was too dry and the yams overcooked. Theon pretended a listening smile and a soundless laugh, all the while Jon silently observing ham with a pitying and worried expression. Theon tried to avoid looking at him, which wasn’t infact that hard, as Arya’s dramatic gesticulations repeatedly demanded his attention.

Finally spotting a chance to end Arya’s anecdotes, Jon interrupted her, asking Theon, "Have you had anything to eat yet?"

“… If you did, I really hoped it was better than that awful turkey, I mean, how could it not?"

Jon shushed her, pushing her slightly towards the door to the store. “Weren’t you supposed to buy some snacks for later tonight?" As she turned around and left for the store, Theon nodded. “I did. Mr. Bolton gave me money for lunch. And he said he would save some of the Christmas meal for me..." When Jon kept eyeing him without responding, Theon turned his eyes towards the floor instead. Jon reached out and grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry, Theon...I know ho...". As Theon felt Jon’s fingers touching the remaining bit of his missing finger, he immediately pulled his hand away and sat back in the chair, wrapping his hand in his shirt. "I'm fine, Jon, really. I get to celebrate tomorrow instead... I think I might get an extra gift this year. Mr. Bolton said so". Somehow he managed to come up with a huge fake smile, but Jon didn't buy it. Instead of returning it, he merely glared at Theon in silence, troubled.

"I'm so grateful you came by, it really means a lot to me...” Moving uneasily on the chair, Theon struggled to keep up the fake smile as well as the eye contact. As he felt his eyes tear up again, Jon reached out and tug him to him. They sat like that for a while, until Arya returned from the store with a bag full of crisps and chocolate. “Jon, are you coming? Sansa just texted me." She pushed her way in between the two of them, and gave Theon a gentle hug. Wrinkling her nose, she broke her embrace quickly though, grinning, "Phew, I do hope you wished for a new deodorant this year, Theon...”

Theon couldn't fake a smile this time. He was too upset with the thought that he wouldn't know when or if he was ever going to see Arya again. Or Jon for the matter. “No, Theon, I’m teasing of course. Please don’t be sad, it’s Christmas after all. It was very nice seeing you again, and Bran and Rickon says hi too." Suddenly uneasy from watching Theon on the verge of tears, it was now her time to fake a smile. Se patted him shortly on the shoulder before turning around to leave the stockroom as fast as possible.  

“We have to get back Theon, I’m sorry. I hope you’ll have a nice day tomorrow. Please take care of yourself, alright?” Jon gave Theon a last tight hug before following Arya to the car, leaving Theon sobbing in the stockroom.

 

As always Theon’s colleague didn’t say anything when he reappeared in the store, looking exhausted and red-eyed. He merely looked at him in tacit understanding, which Theon was utterly grateful of. They worked in silence for another hour, preparing the store for closing.  

Just as Theon was about to order a cab, he noticed a familiar figure approaching from the parking lot. His eyes teared up for God knows what time this day, and he almost dropped the phone when Damon entered the store. He had already spotted Theon in the far end of the room, and was now moving towards him. Trembling Theon prepared for whatever beating or kicking might follow and flinched. He clenched the phone tight to his chest as if to protect it with his life.  “P-lease, I-I didn’t do anything wrong… M-mr. Bolton told me to take a cab…”

"I know, but Ramsay asked me to pick you up instead. So when you're done, I'll be waiting for you in the parking lot." Theon stared at the broad back in confusion, as Damon turned around and left the store again.

For the next 15 minutes Theon was a mess, and could hardly concentrate on the last tasks he had to do. His body was trembling and torturous thoughts almost made his mind explode. He didn’t hear half of what his colleague asked him to do, and he finally had to dismiss him shortly before time, because Theon kept dropping everything he picked up. Staggering, Theon left the store and approached the only car left on the parking lot. He badly wanted to sit in the backseat, or curled up on the floor, as he was used to when Ramsay didn't want to look at him. But when he approached the car Damon opened the door to the front seat. Theon crawled in without a word.

The ride home felt twice as long as the ride out. He so badly wanted to know how Ramsay was, but didn't dare ask. On the other hand, he needed to know, so he could behave probably when he arrived. Just as he was about to mutter a question, Damon broke the silence, "When we arrive, you better stay quiet and do as your Master tells you." Confused and terrified Theon turned his head and looked at him. Damon had never mentioned Ramsay using that word before. Ramsay had tried to make him though, but Damon never remembered or maybe he didn't want to. In fact, Theon used to find some comfort in Damon. A few times he had actually protected him from Ramsay, and Theon could always be certain that Damon wouldn't hurt him, unless he actually did do something wrong. Did this change mean that Damon was mad at him too?

He got his respond as Damon turned his head to meet Theon's eyes. No, he surely wasn't mad at him. There was no anger in those eyes. Instead they shone with pity and sympathy. Right there, Theon felt as if all the blood in his body suddenly froze and he didn’t move an inch for the rest of the ride.

 

When they arrived Theon wasn't able to leave the car. Damon had to pull him out and force him with him. However, instead of heading towards the house, Damon pulled Theon into the garage. Ramsay was sitting on a table at the far corner, leaning against the wall, fiddling with the plaster covering most of his lower arm and hand, except for the fingers. He didn’t even look up as Damon dragged Theon closer and shoved him into a chair, placed next to Ramsay and the table. Immediately Theon started pleading and begging. "Master, please, I'll never do anything to upset you again, I'm so sorry for what I've done…! Please don't hurt me, I'll do whatever you ask of me…!! I’ve been good! Please...!!" Throwing himself forward, Theon grabbed Ramsay’s leg and buried his face in the fabric of his jeans.

Ramsay instantly kicked him back in the chair, where Damon pushed him back in position by a firm hold on his shoulders. "How dare you ask for mercy, you false, traitorous slut!?! Damon, gag him, I don’t want to hear another pathetic pleading from this cunt!” 

Before Theon could beg again, Damon had forced a cloth into his mouth and secured it with another piece of fabric around his neck, preventing him from spitting it out. Tears poured down Theon's face as he looked up at Ramsay, pleading for mercy with his eyes instead. Ramsay just stared back at him, his gaze blank and dazed. Probably from a high dose of painkillers, as Theon couldn’t smell alcohol.

“To be honest, I can’t stand the look of your disgusting face at the moment, but we do have some unfinished business to settle, don’t we?” 

As Ramsay picked up a hammer from the table and weighed it in his unharmed hand, Theon threw himself forward with as much force as he could muster, trying to break free from Damon’s grip. To no avail of course. Pleading, begging and screaming from despair, his arms and legs flung at the air around him. Fortunately he didn’t strike Ramsay, but his try at it was enough. The look in Ramsay’s eyes made Theon’s blood freeze, pinning him to the chair. “Are you trying to escape this? Really Reek? Didn’t you learn anything?” Ramsay nodded at Damon and slid down from the table. Shifting his hold on Theon, Damon put an arm around his neck and shoulders, grabbing Theon’s right wrist with the other, forcing his hand down on the table.

“Three fingers for the broken baubles, and an extra for resisting. That sounds fair, don’t you think?”

Theon was crying so hard he almost made the chair tremble, and he wasn't sure if this was real. He should be responding but he was too terrified to do anything but cry. Ramsay didn't expect an answer anyway, and before Theon could at least nod, the hammer smashed against his index finger. Theon screamed as loud as ever and tried to pull his hand to him, but Damon made sure he didn't move and inch. It took three bashes before Ramsay was satisfied and went on for the thumb. Three times the hammer smashed against that finger as well, accompanied by the horrifying sound of bones being crushed.

When Damon for a second released Theon, shifting his hold once more to place his left hand on the table, Theon’s body seemed so numb from a mixture of pain, crying and shock, he couldn’t even get himself to move his mutilated hand from the table. For a short moment his screaming turned to a silent sobbing, but only until Ramsay once more raised the hammer and smashed it against the middle finger on his left hand. Theon screamed until he simply couldn't anymore, and just before Ramsay threw the hammer against his left index finger, Theon passed out.

  


 

He woke up on the hard floor in the dim kitchen. As he leaned on his hands to get up, the overriding pain from his fingers reminded him of what had happened, and he let out a heartrending scream. Ramsay seemed to appear from nowhere as he kicked Theon hard in the stomach, causing him to collapse. “Shut the fuck up!” Theon’s scream had been muffled by the gag still in his mouth, but Ramsay was still furious from worry of waking up Roose or Walda. 

He crouched beside Theon, grabbed his hair and pulled him into a halfway sitting position, all the while holding his broken and plastered arm close to his chest. To avoid leaning on his hands, Theon merely had to follow, dangling as a lifeless doll from Ramsay’s grip, praying to whatever kind of deity that Ramsay wouldn’t suddenly let go of him. Luckily, Ramsay instead choose to pull Theon up with an extra jerk and shoved him to a sitting position, his back against the kitchen counter. Ramsay stood and turned to get something from the fridge. A moment later he almost threw a deep plate with cold left-overs from the Christmas dinner into Theon’s lap. Theon managed to grab and steady the plate without touching it with his mutilated fingers.

Removing the gag, Ramsay hissed, “Eat."

Trembling, Theon stared up at Ramsay in terror. “P-please, I… Master, I-I’m so sorry, I’ll…!"

“EAT!"

Ramsay pulled out a chair from the dining table and sat down to supervise Theon’s eating. “And don’t you dare ask for a fork, you’re too stupid to use it properly anyway. You may use your fingers, that I've been so kind as to not take away from you yet. In fact, to remind you of my mercy, I’ve decided on never letting you use silverware again, starting today.”

Theon looked helplessly at the cold meat and the mashed potatoes. Blinking away tears, causing them to drip into the plate and mix with the food, he timidly dug his fingers into the potatoes. Biting his lips in attempt to avoid screaming out loud from the pain burning from his crushed fingertips all the way through his arms and the rest of his body. As he finally managed to dig up a bit of mashed potatoes, Theon raised the hand to his mouth and slowly licked the sweet, sticky mush from his fingers, all the while fighting the urge to vomit into the plate.

Ramsay just sat there without a sound, patiently watching Theon’s agony. When Theon managed to get a hold of a piece of turkey almost only with the help from his unharmed fingers, he tried to enjoy the taste of it, although he for once wished for nothing more than to go to sleep without food.

I took him several minutes to finish each bite, but Ramsay didn’t seem to mind.

After what seemed like hours, but likely hadn’t been more than 20 minutes, Ramsay went to the fridge again, poured some Coke in a huge glass, almost to the top, and put it down on the floor next to Theon. “There. Father bought your favorite soda as well, you better have some." Theon timidly tried to raise the glass with the three remaining usable fingers on his left hand, but it was too heavy. Instead he tried to grab it with both palms, but it didn’t do any difference. “P-please, it’s too heavy, I-i can’t…”

“Drink."

Sobbing, Theon had to give it another go, and as expected, he didn’t manage to raise it more than an inch from the ground before it tipped over. Luckily the glass didn’t shatter, but almost half a liter of Coke spilled all over the kitchen floor.

“I-i-im sorry…!! Master, I-i…!!”

Ramsay cursed and crouched down beside Theon, grabbing his hair again and forced his head into the puddle of soda, followed by a merciless dragging of Theon’s face back and forth over the floor as if he was a mere floorcloth. To avoid a nose fracture too, Theon had to lean on his palms to raise his head slightly from the floor. However, Ramsay slammed his head back into the puddle with such force the weight of his upper body caused the crushed fingers on his left hand to snap backwards with a loud cracking sound. Theon’s scream was cut off by his own puke as he vomited on to the floor.

Pulling Theon’s head back Ramsay stared into his red and terrified eyes. Pain and fright had made him speechless, but still Ramsay put a hand over his mouth. “Father can’t know any of this. I’ll call Qyburn when he leaves, but until then you don’t make a sound. If he finds out, I swear I’ll break your hands and feet as soon as he leaves the house, do you understand?!”

Halfway in a state of shock, Theon sobbingly nodded.

“Of course you’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight, but don’t you dare go upstairs before you’ve cleaned up this disgusting mess of yours!” Ramsay pushed Theon’s face back down into the puddle of soda, now mixed with his own vomit, before releasing him and leaving for the bedroom.


	5. Christmas Wrapping

That Theon managed to clean up the kitchen without waking up Roose or Walda must have been some sort of Christmas miracle. With a missing finger and two broken ones, his right hand was as good as useless. Theon had to use his left hand, with which he was still able to grasp a cloth. However, the sight of the two fingers broken backwards made Theon’s stomach turn and had caused him to throw up in the sink.

After airing the room to get rid of the sour stench, he timidly climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom. Through the darkness Theon could make out Ramsay’s body sprawled on the bed. What he couldn’t see was that Ramsay wasn’t yet asleep, but was silently observing Theon’s every movement, as the trembling figure closed the door behind him, cautious of not waking up his Master.

“Come here.”

Theon jumped as Ramsay without a sound sat up in the bed. With an almost soundless whimper, Theon slowly approached the bed and stopped just next to it.

“Don’t you dare touch the bed. Get on your knees”. Theon obeyed and chose to fixate his eyes on the wooden bedside, as Ramsay swung his legs over the edge of the bed to sit before him, a leg on each side of him.

“Give me your hand”.

Theon wasn’t sure which hand he meant, but had a frightening idea. He felt a shiver down his spine as he slowly raised the hand with the to backwards pointing fingers, without removing his eyes from the bedside. Ramsay grabbed his wrist and ever so gently, making Theon in doubt whether it was actually Ramsay touching him, he let his fingers examine and caress the two mangled fingers.

“We can’t have your fingers look like this, can we?”

His eyes tearing up again, Theon shook his head in silence.

“No, Father will certainly notice... I guess you will have to ask me to fix them for you then, don’t you? Or would you rather try and come up with an explanation for Father yourself? It better be a good one, and good excuses ain’t really your strong side, now is it?”

His entire body shaking, Theon merely sobbed for a long while, struggling to keep as silent as possible. Feeling Ramsay’s icy gaze upon him, he finally managed to stammer, “P-please…. please help m-me, Master...” When Ramsay didn’t respond, he timidly raised his eyes to meet Ramsay’s and continued, “p-please put them back in place… I will be g-grateful…”

For the first time in days Theon spotted a smile on Ramsay’s lips. “Good boy, Reek… Since you ask so nicely, I will help you. But first, I need you to open your mouth…”

Ramsay grasped a shirt from somewhere on the bed behind him and held it in front of Theon’s face. Trembling and with a pleading look on his face, Theon let Ramsay stuff the shirt into his mouth.

Ramsay then placed his pillow in his lap and gently pushed Theon’s face deep into it. He held it there for a while until Theon began struggling from lack of breath. Only then did he clench both Theon’s fingers and yanked them back into their right position - or at least into an angle fit enough for Roose not to notice they had been crushed. Qyburn would have to fix them properly in a couple of days. Theon was howling from pain, but the sound was muffled by the pillow, the gag as well as the lack of air.

When Ramsay finally released his grip, Theon was dizzy and on the verge to pass out. However, he managed to stammer out a meek “Th-thank you...”

“Shut up, lie down and go to sleep, Reek. And when we wake up in the morning, you better keep those tears at bay. No one wants to look at such an ugly, messed up crying scrub on Christmas Day.”

Theon had for a brief moment forgotten everything about Christmas, presents and the fact that they were to spend the next morning with Roose and Walda, unwrapping gifts, pretending to be happy and grateful. As he curled up on the hard floor beside the bed, he tried to comfort himself with the fact that he only received a single gift from Roose last year. Sobbing from the thought of having to unwrap that present without showing any sign of pain, Theon’s exhausted body finally gave in and he fell into a fitful, uneasy sleep.

  


When they came downstairs the next morning, Roose and Walda were already enjoying their breakfast. The table groaned with plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, waffles, toast, fruit and more. Ramsay slumped down onto a chair across from his father and snapped his fingers for Theon to place himself on the chair beside him. Roose gave Ramsay a judging stare over his coffee mug and growled, “It’s Christmas Day Ramsay, you could at least shave…”  

It only occurred to Theon then how terrible Ramsay looked. His gaze was still dazed from painkillers, and he hadn't shaved for two days. And even though he didn't normally comb his hair, it looked even more unruly than usual.

Busy pouring syrup on his small pile of waffles, Ramsay didn’t respond. Roose turned to Theon instead “I’m glad my son remembered to give you the left-overs from yesterday, I hope you enjoyed it. How was your day at work? Quiet, I would imagine?”

Carefull to hide his hands under the table, Theon nodded and mumbled an answer that none of them could hear.

Trying to ease the awkward atmosphere, Walda kindly asked Theon what he would like to eat.

“He’s not hungry.”

Theon flinched as Ramsay, with his mouth full of waffles, gave Walda a reproachful look. As Roose cleared his throat, Ramsay swallowed the food and faked a sweet smile, as he continued, “...He is still full from the lovely dinner you made us yesterday. Right?” Even before Ramsay turned to look at him, Theon nodded eagerly, mumbling another inaudible story of how tasty the meal had been.

Ramsay turned back to his meal, as Walda continued talking about recipes for different kinds of Christmas meals. Theon tried to listen and fake an interest in the story, most of all to keep his mind off the burning pain in his fingers as well as avoid the judging look on Roose’s face, as he alternately observed Ramsay and Theon.

 

When they had finished breakfast and Walda had cleared the table, Roose announced it was time for exchanging gifts. Roose and Walda placed themselves on the couch, Ramsay in an armchair next to Roose, and Theon was about to settle down on the floor next to him when Roose’s look made him freeze halfway down. Theon looked at Ramsay who responded with a deadly stare, but then nodded, almost unnoticeable. Theon slowly sat down in the soft armchair across from Ramsay instead, careful only to lean on his palms and wrists.  

“So, should we begin? Why don’t you let Theon go first.” Directed at Walda, Roose gave a wave towards the small pile of gifts on the coffee table in front of them.

“Okay, so, this gift is from me, Theon. I’m truly grateful for all the work you did around the house with the decoration and all...” She gently grasped a package from the table and straightened the ribbon before reaching it to Theon with a warm smile. Theon took it and had to bite his lip to prevent himself from screaming out loud, as the present was heavier than expected and he had to clench his fingers around it not to drop it. As he placed it in his lap and slowly began unwrapping it, careful not to make a sound, Walda cackled on about Christmases at home, and where she had gotten all the different ornaments from. Fumbling to remove the tape, Theon caught a glimpse of Ramsay from the corner of his eye. He sat across from Theon, motionless. His arms resting on his knees, eyes big with hate, lust and fascination over the sight of Theon's agony.

“Oh, and Roose said a few items had been broken. Please don’t worry about that, it’s fine.” Hearing that, Theon’s eyes teared up and he prayed that his messy hair would hide his face enough for them not to notice. He had to blink away a tear to read the title of the books that Walda had given him. It was two books on design process and creative thinking.

“Th-thank you...” he managed to stammer, and tried to smile as he sent a quick look at Walda before lowering his head again to hide his watery eyes.

Roose was showering Walda with gifts, and the following rounds of unwrapping gave Theon a break to get himself together and wipe his eyes without being noticed. Ramsay tried more than once to have Theon unwrap the presents his father and Walda gave Ramsay as well, but Roose saved him each time. Theon was given another present from Roose, a new sweater, that fortunately was very easy to unwrap.

The greatest test was when Roose reached for one of the last presents on the table, which had originally been wrapped up nicely, but was now covered in uncountable amounts of duct tape.

“What is this?” he demanded to know, giving Ramsay another judging look.

“I dropped it in the snow and was afraid the paper wouldn’t hold, so I fixed it…”

Roose stared at Ramsay for a long while, trying to figure out what this was about, before he sighed and reached the gift to Theon. “Here you go, that is the extra gift I promised you.”

Trembling under Ramsay’s supervising stare Theon struggled with the duct tape while Walda and Roose exchanged the last gifts. By the time they had finished Theon was on the verge of tears again, and had only managed to remove one round of duct tape. Shaking his head, Roose saved Theon once again as he fetched a pair of scissors from the kitchen and helped him unwrap the present. It turned out to be a new pair of sneakers.

With watery eyes, mostly over Roose rescuing him, Theon thanked Walda and Roose over and over, telling them how grateful he was for the gifts. He did his best at faking a smile, knowing that everything would end up in the fireplace as soon as they left.

Theon’s awkward reaction had made Walda uneasy yet again and she seemed relieved when they had to leave the house shortly after. Walda’s cousin lived nearby and Roose had arranged for them to visit her, before the two of them left town the following morning.  

 

 

As soon as Theon heard the car pull out of the driveway, he collapsed to the floor and cried into his arms. The pain in his fingers as well as the struggle to stay silent all morning had been too much for him and he couldn’t help it.

With his face buried in his arms he heard Ramsay enter the living room and sit down in the arm chair next to him. Theon knew he should be raising his head, but he didn’t dare to. He felt Ramsay’s icy stare upon him, but no sound was heard for a long time, beside Theon’s sobbing.

Finally Ramsay spoke, his voice smooth but deadly. “Look at me, Reek.”

Timidly, Theon obeyed and raised his head.

“I’m proud of you. You did very well today.”

“Th-thank you…I-i-m so sorry for w….” Confused by the calm look on Ramsay’s face, Theon went with apologizing as the most secure reaction for this situation, but Ramsay cut him off.

“I’ve decided that you should quit working. It’s time for you to commit fully to me and the work around the house instead.” Theon hadn’t noticed before now that Ramsay was fiddling with something. It was an old fashioned straight razor. He had flipped it open and was running his fingers along the blade. On one hand, Theon was in shock over the news, on the other, he had seen it coming. His entire body was too drained from energy to show any kind of emotion though. Instead of responding, he simply watched the razor in Ramsay’s hand.

“I’ve thought about it for a while, and I’m quite certain it is Jon and all his figurines causing you to lose focus from what should be most important in your life…”

Theon froze and stared at Ramsay. He knew? How? What a stupid question, of course he knew. But why had he allowed him to keep working for this long if he did? Theon dreaded what would follow, and prepared himself for anything, desperately trying to decode any sign coming from Ramsay that would be able to help him in the slightest way. He had been arguing with himself for a long moment whether to run for it or not, when it dawned on him that Ramsay wasn’t doing or saying anything. Nothing followed, Ramsay simply sat there, reclined in the chair as he kept fiddling with the razor.

Ramsay gazed at him in silence for a long while before finally leaning forward, grabbing Theon by his chin and pulling him close. Ramsay’s piercing eyes danced across Theon’s face, observing every detail of his skin and features. As a lover studied his partner or a predator it’s prey.

“I think Father is right Reek, I do need a shave...” Placing the straight razor in Theon’s mangled right hand, he pressed a gentle kiss to Theon’s lips and whispered, “And you will of course be very careful not to cut me, now won’t you?”.

Feeling another tear finding it’s way down his cheek, Theon stared into Ramsay's glacial eyes, swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded.

 


End file.
